


Outside The Trials: What in Fresh Hell

by Fishfootidentity



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-08
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2019-03-02 05:56:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13311927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fishfootidentity/pseuds/Fishfootidentity
Summary: Have you ever seen the Wraith push a trolley at a mart? Or better yet, have you ever been accompanied by the Trapper or Nurse while shopping for new clothes?These stories share the same concept as the original OTT, but the goings-on are much less serious. This is where the crack events are featured, as it were.





	1. Is Soda A Good Idea?

**Author's Note:**

> Here it is, the reason I started writing the "Outside The Trials" series.

For the Entity to be sated by the souls of victims, the victims must first be fulfilled, which can still happen in the smallest possible ways. For those victims to be fulfilled, they must be given (though in limited amounts) freedom – for example, the freedom to move around in the outside world, the freedom to choose.

A certain kind of freedom becomes craved when the naïve survivors notice one or two killers taking on Entity-bestowed human appearances – what they look like before the Entity corrupted their physique. Usually, at that point, the Entity cloaked the killers so the survivors could not follow them.

Try as they may, the survivors never managed to find where the killers parked their car, if they took one to the outside world. Under an hour later, the killers will be back hauling groceries and asking the survivors to stop gawking and start unpacking.

In the face of failure after failure, the survivors were not deterred. In fact, the Entity relented, allowing one survivor to be accompanied by one killer in an outing.

That’s how Claudette ends up where she is: joining Philip’s current grocery run under a different name. As of yet, she would not leave the human-looking Wraith in favour of striking out on her own; she has much to learn about how the Campfire’s servants operate. Only after she knows enough would she be able to set herself and her friends free.

For now, she pushed down any thought of escape. She didn’t want the Entity to read her mind when it was disguising her and Philip for their trip to the outside world.

Claudette did not speak, rather attempting to observe her surroundings closely while Philip drove their car – a roomy blue sedan – down the narrow road. Soon, however, whatever she was aiming to notice became something she forgot, and before she knew it, she could no longer could discern if there was a fixed roadway that linked the outside world to the Entity’s woods.

So she dropped the matter, and instead occupied her time selecting what brands or flavours of food and beverage items she can ask Philip to buy. She consulted her list before moving on.

At the snacks section, she grabbed potato chips for Dwight, flaming hot corn puffs for Nea, and some sandwich cookies she wanted Jake and Meg to try.

Philip wheeled his shopping cart down the aisle, keeping up with her. Claudette hid a smile; although she has known the Wraith as a person for a while now, she didn’t think she could get used to this sight.

Briefly she wondered what she and Philip look like to the outside world, under the Entity’s spell. Niece and uncle? Daughter and father?

Her musing gets cut short when she arrived at the next aisle. She consulted the list her friends compiled. Yes, the last item is here.

Philip sighed when Claudette brought two large bottles – one’s contents black, the other an impossibly bright orange – to the shopping cart.

“You kids and the things you consume,” he exclaimed. “Are those really necessary?”

“They’re brand-name and orange soda,” Claudette said. “Can we please get them? Nea wanted the original soda forever but you and Evan never seem to be able to find it.”

“And the orange soda?”

Claudette gave a chagrined smile. “That’s my guilty pleasure. When I have to put out a blog post in a hurry or pull an all-nighter, orange soda is my go-to beverage.”

“Very well, then… should be fine.”

Claudette gave Philip a nod of thanks and put the two soda bottles in the shopping cart.

Philip plodded on and pushed his cart, Claudette in tow. As they queued for checkout, the killer mused that his ward must be the only person in the entire mart who is so excited for grocery shopping.

* * *

Resting against a log at the Campfire, Laurie had never before seen Nea get so worked up about unpacking groceries. The former street tagger helped Claudette carry the bags to the structure that housed the Campfire people’s refrigerator, pantry, and kitchen. Then she returned to the Campfire with one bag of flaming hot corn puffs, the bottle of soda, and several plastic cups.

After that, Claudette and Philip are abandoned to sort the rest of the groceries on their own.

“I almost can’t believe this,” Nea exclaimed to anyone at the Campfire that would listen. “Who knew the Entity would go so far as to allow us to choose our own groceries?”

Somewhere behind her, Jake pinched the bridge of his nose before leaving to help out Claudette and Philip.

Still immersed in excitement, Nea sat on the ground next to Laurie, separated some of the plastic cups, and poured soda for the two of them.

“I thought we’re having a meal after this – and later maybe a Trial,” Laurie pointed out.

Nea opened her bag of corn puffs with practiced ease. “This _is_ a meal – to me, at least. It’s pretty much what I have sometimes, usually when I’m in hiding. It’s worked for me so far,” Nea remarked.

Laurie gave her a small smile, but that expression faded when she felt the oncoming heavy footsteps. She and Nea are now joined by Max Thompson, the Hillbilly.

“Oh hey, big guy. Want to try soda? I’ll pour you some,” Nea said, taking yet another empty cup from the small stack that she brought.

Speaking seldom and amused by small things, Max accepted the newly-filled cup from Nea and began to peer closely at the jumpy surface of the fizzy drink.

“Go on, it won’t hurt you. These flaming puffs might, though,” Nea told Max, snatching a handful of corn puffs from the large bag she claimed her own.

Laurie’s nostrils could pick up the spices from where she’s sitting, across Nea. As amusing (maybe?) as it is to watch Nea scarf on corn snacks and wash them down with soda, Laurie began worrying what it would do to her friend’s stomach, especially if they end up on the upcoming Trial later.

On the bright side (again, maybe), Max started with sips of his soda, and he seems to be enjoying his interesting new drink.

* * *

An hour after the common meal, the next Trial starts.

Laurie and Nea started together. Jake was alone, left to work on a generator. Dwight found himself far too close to the basement for his comfort, and the Hillbilly spotted him almost immediately.

A few rounds of chases and a couple of finished generators later, the Hillbilly goes to focus on Jake, determined to bring him down and hook him up. Up until this point, Jake has been evading the chainsaw-wielding killer rather well, but he is running out of pallets to work with.

Nea felt the gurgling in the pit of her stomach. This is what she has been preparing to do. This is her moment to shine.

With (mostly) the intention of distracting the Hillbilly from Jake, Nea emerged loudly from the locker where she was hiding and called out: “Hey big-butt!”

The Hillbilly lowered his chainsaw and turned his head toward the small survivor in the distance.

Now that she has his attention, Nea burped as loud as she has ever tried to in her life.

The whole Trial seems to come to a halt. There’s no way for Dwight and Laurie to _not_ hear that.

Unable to help herself, Nea grinned with pride at what she achieved.

A moment later, the Hillbilly took a few paces in her direction. He squared up, faced her, and let out a rumbling, monstrous belch of his own.

Nea’s grin disappeared. For the most part, she was awed by the big guy. A saner part of her is terrified.

When the Hillbilly snarled and revved up his chainsaw again, Nea knew the Trial resumes for good.


	2. Clothes Shopping, Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (At this point, Ace, Bill, Feng Min, Lisa, and Herman are part of the Campfire.)  
> Survivors' clothes work weirdly in the Entity's world. But in any case, it's often fun to get new clothes.

“I can’t find my shirt.”

Against her better judgment, Meg got up from where she was building Lego structures with Max, Nea and Laurie, and went to the source of the voice.

Dwight is standing at the door of the gents’ common washroom. He is clothed normally from his feet to his waist and wearing his glasses, but a damp towel is wrapped around his shoulders and torso, hiding his arms underneath.

“Don’t you usually take all your clothes with you to the bathroom so you can change into them right after showering?” Meg asked.

“I do, but –” Dwight looked left and right, “– I feel like I may have dropped it on the way.”

Meg sighed. “Let’s go retrace your steps, then.”

Sure enough, they found Dwight’s missing shirt atop his bed, right where it was before he forgot to take it alongside his other clothes to the bathroom.

“Ah, there it is. Thanks, Meg,” Dwight said in relief.

“No problem,” Meg replied, turning her head to give him some privacy while he puts on his shirt. “I only have one question, though: how do you miss your shirt so easily?” she wondered.

Shirt now buttoned up, Dwight straightened his collar and looked for his tie next. “Beats me. I’m blinder than most people, but not _that_ blind.”

Sharp of hearing as well as sight, Bill ducked into the men’s bedroom and said: “If you think you’re not blind, you ought to look in the mirror, boy. Your shirt’s gotten so thin your nipples are visible,” before he stalked off to smoke outdoors.

It was not the first time Meg wished she could unhear certain words.

* * *

The next time Dwight emerged from the men’s shared bedroom, he has (thankfully) changed into his PizzaWhat T-shirt.

“How come Dwight’s shirt – or anyone else’s clothes, for that matter – deteriorates? I thought every time we come back from a Trial, our clothes return to normal – no hook-marks, no nothing,” he overheard Meg asking Evan.

“How the fuck am I supposed to know how your clothes work?” Evan asked back, his hands lifted slightly in frustration.

“I’ve got a theory if you want to hear it,” Claudette said to Meg.

“Do you, now?” Herman asked from behind a tree, wearing his eternal grin.

While the girls resumed their banter with the sneaking Doctor, Evan took the opportunity to leave them in favour of some peace and quiet.

“So, um, Evan,” Dwight called softly, following the big man when he didn’t stop. “The Entity has been kind and all, providing us with food, facilities, stuff… You don’t think It will object to getting us survivors new clothes, do you?”

Before Evan could berate Dwight for following him like a lost animal, Philip arrived with an answer: “I consulted the Entity – I was told two killers can bring two survivors for an outing this time.”

“Fine. Bring Sally with you or something. I’d much rather stay at the Campfire,” Evan told his fellow killer.

He tried to brush past Philip, but the Wraith gently touched his shoulder and spoke in his ear: “I know you haven’t been allowed to drive for years, but this is _Outside_ we’re talking about.”

Something significant passed between them. Dwight wasn’t sure what; all he knew was that he was permitted to witness it. Maybe going back to human civilisation was something they weren’t supposed to take for granted? Maybe Philip was reminding him that some among them were so far gone they weren’t allowed Outside anymore?

Evan shrugged slowly. “… I’ll go.”

Dwight smiled at the prospect of going outside like Philip and Claudette did. But then he remembered what Philip said: two killers and two survivors. Who’s going to go clothes-shopping with him?

* * *

Jake has been dragged to errands and events by his family before. Well, back then he wasn’t forced by his parents or brother to repair generators while risking potential death on a meat hook, so this is completely different.

For long he has been wary of asking the Entity for new things: facilities, items, luxuries – favours, in general. But if it’s normal for survivors and killers to go outside, buy stuff, and come back, then maybe Jake could enjoy Outside time while it lasts.

He glanced at his fellow survivor. Dwight seems to have missed sunlight more than anything, and after enjoying the wind on his face, he wound the car window back up – out of consideration for the other occupants of the vehicle.

“You enjoy driving, Philip?” Jake asked.

Philip made an affirmative noise from the driver’s seat – the left side of the car, Jake noted. He wondered where in the world they could be: the US, Canada, Europe… maybe even South America?

“Why weren’t you allowed to drive anymore, Evan?” Dwight asked this time.

Jake’s ears perked up. He hadn’t heard about that.

Evan let out a sigh. “All I’ll tell you is that it wasn’t my fault the Entity has to keep me from getting recognised,” he spoke.

“Whoa. Did you get road rage and end up killing the other driver?” Jake asked.

Philip lightly touched Evan’s arm in the manner of ‘I’ll take this one’. “There was an accident, and there was road rage, but that came from the other driver, who made one hell of a fuss,” the thin man explained. As he drove, calm and rule-abiding, he continues telling the story: “Evan kept his temper in check, but that driver didn’t stop sounding angry. He pulled out a shotgun at us, yelling for us to give him our money. Something we said set him off, and then he shot Evan.”

Silence filled the car, interrupted by the small sounds of its signal indicator. The car has entered the mall, and it is about to park – if it can find a parking spot, that is.

“… What did Evan do?” Dwight pressed on.

“Oh. Well, it became his turn to get mad. But when he took one step forward, the driver ran back to his car and drove right off.”

“Fucking coward could use a few days on the hook,” Evan remarked.

While Dwight helped Evan and Philip look for an empty spot for their transport, Jake sat back and tried to picture the scene told by Philip in his mind. By the time the car is parked and they leave for the mall proper, Jake wondered if he could, in the future, do Evan a favour by giving him the chance to restore his driving privileges. Because from the sound of things, the accident Evan and Philip were in was a set-up, and the driver at fault has intended to rob them from the start.

* * *

The Entity’s servants split up, each accompanying their respective ward. Not long afterward, though, Dwight could see Jake darting towards one particular store. He wondered how Philip felt about the music playing there.

“Hmph – he found what he wanted quick,” Evan muttered, and then directed his gaze towards Dwight.

The former corporate ladder-climber quelled his inner urge to run. “I, uh, usually buy my work clothes at a department store.”

“Well then – lead the way.”

Were it not for the killer in tow, Dwight would have been completely sidetracked by everything. After being out in the woods for so long, even the most mundane parcel of capitalistic society can feel interesting to him.

On their way to the department store, they passed by some restaurants whose employees handed out flyers by the entrance. Out of habit, Dwight took them to be polite; once out of sight, he will usually throw those away. It’s not like Evan or Philip will give him and Jake time to dine at those restaurants.

“Can I have those flyers?” Evan asked once they reached the entrance of the department store.

Dwight blinked, genuinely surprised. “Um, why?”

“They’re for Lisa. She likes to look at new food and try to cook’em,” Evan told him.

As he handed over the flyers, Dwight had plenty of questions swimming in his head. But he quickly turned his head and sneezed into his shirtsleeve.

They have entered the department store through its beauty section, and there was more perfume than Dwight’s poor nose could stand.

One floor above, they found the men’s section. Dwight wasn’t sure what budget the Entity gave the survivors, so he stuck to necessities. Three work shirts, two work pants, a bargain pack of new boxers… what about socks and shoes?

“How ’bout you get some clothes you can really run in?”

Dwight looked around and found the source of Evan’s voice. This time the human-looking Trapper is standing near a section where the brand sells casual wear.

“Thanks. I almost forgot,” Dwight said, smiling sheepishly.

At first blush, Dwight was grateful. But then Evan started recommending T-shirts of brighter (more noticeable) colours. After that, Dwight just nodded knowingly, meeting Evan’s conscientious stare with a small smile.

Soon enough, Dwight has finished finding his fit, Evan paid for the clothes at the counter, and the two men exit the department store.

Dwight looked around, still taking in the sights as Evan retraced their steps. There are more restaurants, a frozen yogurt shop, some knick-knack or hobby stores, some fast food joints – he has yet to see a bookstore, but maybe he’s not in the section that has one. Speaking of which, how would Evan and/or Philip know where to meet when the survivors are done shopping?

Stepping on an escalator going down, Dwight sensed it before he saw it: the Wraith, standing next to Jake (who has taken to wearing his new clothes, it seems). Almost at the same instant, Philip looked up and picked him and Evan out of the humans waiting on the escalator.

In the back of Dwight’s mind, he wondered if this is how the Entity keeps survivors – and maybe even killers – from escaping Its grip. It will always know.

“Can we go home soon?” Evan asked Philip.

“Sure – unless there’s other things you want to buy,” Philip said, looking at Dwight and Jake.

“Churros?” Jake offered his fellow survivor, paper cup full of fried snacks in hand.

Dwight stared at Jake, who has previously cautioned him against owing the Entity favours. Maybe something out here changed him. Maybe the Trials and living at the Campfire had taken more of a toll on him than Dwight thought, and he can only see the effects once they’ve returned to civilisation.

Then again – he glanced at Philip before the dark thoughts could gather – maybe Philip is just a more open and indulgent caretaker than Evan is. Simple as that.

“Sure,” Dwight said, taking one of the still-warm sugary pastries.

* * *

“Nice biker leathers,” Feng Min commented back at the Campfire.

“Thanks,” Jake replied, satisfied in his own choice of clothing.

“Ever thought of dyeing your hair bright red, and also putting on some goggles?” she continued.

Jake blinked at her. “Why would I do that?”

Min stared at him, and asked in earnest: “Do you know taekwondo, at least?”

“No, I don’t – is this about a video game?”

“It’s _Tekken_!” she burst out. “Jeez! What did you and your brother play when you’re growing up?”

“My brother played the piano and then took up cello. I barely played the piano because I wasn’t interested in the lessons.”

Feng Min left her spot at the Campfire and walked away, shoulders slumped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Claudette’s theory about clothes at the Campfire and Trials: The Entity can restore clothes damaged by what happens to survivors during trials, but the Entity can’t protect those clothes against natural decay. It really makes you wonder how often Dwight wore his old shirt, huh.
> 
> Don’t mind Herman; he’s just trying to be a good scientist.


End file.
